Timothy Zahn - Outbound Flight

“I wouldn’t characterize him that way,” she said, her voice going a little cooler.

“Of course you would,” Obi-Wan said, giving her a reassuring smile. “I thought that about my Master at times. And I know Anakin thinks that about me.”

For a moment she hesitated. Then, almost reluctantly, she smiled back. “Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever be able to please him,” she admitted.

“I know the feeling,” Obi-Wan said. “Just remember that this, too, will pass. And once you’re a Jedi Knight, your job will no longer be a matter of pleasing a single Master or even a group of them. Your job will be to do what is right.”

“That’s the part that seems so hard,” she confessed.

“How do you ever know what is truly right?”

Obi-Wan shrugged. “When you’re at peace,” he said.

“When you’re truly attuned to the Force.”

“If I ever am.”

Obi-Wan grimaced. On one hand was Anakin, pushing ahead so eagerly that he was forever overstepping his limits, though he had to admit the boy succeeded more often than he failed. On the other hand was Lorana, so awed by C’baoth’s presence and reputation that she was afraid to even stretch herself beyond anything she already knew.

Somewhere, there had to be a middle ground.

For another few minutes they walked together in silence, weaving their way through the other pedestrians and shoppers. Obi-Wan kept his eyes moving, watching for signs of Riskc or of the trouble he apparently expected to find here and making sure to keep Anakin’s bobbing head within sight.

Ahead, off to the left, was a landspeeder repair shop, with a display of shiny parts in the open-air front room and half-seen figures working in the darker repair area in back.

Several Brolfi were browsing around the front room displays, most of them adults but one a teenager about Anakin’s age.

Obi-Wan eyed him, noting his reddish brown craftsman’s vest with its multiple pockets. Most Brolfi seemed to make do without nearly that much carrying capacity; apparently, this boy was the sort who liked carrying all his little treasures with him.

He smiled to himself. Jedi, forever wandering the galaxy with most of their possessions on their backs or belts, were hardly in a position to point fingers on that one. Throwing one final look at the boy, he started to turn away.

But to his surprise, something drew his eves back again.

Something about the youngster’s posture, perhaps, or the way he was looking around him.

Or perhaps it was the subtle prompting of the Force.

Frowning, he kept his attention on the boy as he and Lorana continued to weave their way through the milling crowds.

And as he watched, the young Brolf stepped close to a rack of burst thrusters, a set of cutters appearing magically in his hand. With a glance at the workers in the back room, he deftly snipped the anchor lines of two of the thrusters, catching each in turn and slipping them out of sight inside his vest. The cutters followed the thrusters, and a second later the boy wandered casually out of the shop. Turning his back to the approaching Jedi, he melted into the crowd.

Obi-Wan grabbed Lorana’s upper arm. “Brolf teenager in a red-brown vest,” he said in a low voice, pointing at the spotwhere the youth had disappeared. “Get Anakin, find him, and follow him.”

“What?” Lorana asked, staring at him in bewilderment.

“Find him and follow him,” Obi-Wan repeated, glancing around. To their right was a narrow alleyway cutting a path between a pair of ten-story buildings. “Go.”

Still clearly puzzled, Lorana nevertheless nodded and hurried ahead. Obi-Wan caught a glimpse of her grabbing Anakin’s arm; and then he was in the alley, dodging the garbage containers as he headed to the center. It was probably thirty meters to the tops of the buildings flanking him, and even with Jedi strength enhancement a leap like that was well beyond his capabilities.

But there were other ways. Glancing both directions down the alley to make sure no one was watching, he stretched out to the Force and leapt.

His boots hit the right-hand wall about four meters above the ground. Bending his knees to absorb the impact, he shoved off again before he could start falling back down, pushing himself upward and toward the wall on the left-hand side. That jump gained him another two meters, and he pushed off again toward the right, frog-hopping his way upward.

He reached the top with only minor twinges in his knees and leg muscles to mark the strain. Running to the edge of the roof, he dropped flat onto his stomach and looked down.

The streets looked just as crowded from up here as they did from down below. Pulling out his comlink, he keyed for Anakin. “Skywalker,” Anakin’s voice came promptly. “What’s this about a kid in a brown vest?”

“He stole a pair of burst thrusters from that shop back there,” Obi-Wan explained, shading his eyes from the sun with one hand as he searched the crowd below for the young thief.

“You mean like you use in Podracers and swoops?”

“Right,” Obi-Wan said. “They’re also the drive system of choice for homemade missiles.”

There was a gentle hiss from the comlink. “Got it,”

Anakin said, his voice suddenly grim. “Did you see which way he went?”

“He left the shop going west,” Obi-Wan said. “But he could easily have changed—wait a minute.” He leaned a little farther over the edge of the roof as a flicker of red-brown caught his eye before it passed out of sight beneath an awning. He watched the other side, and moment later it emerged. “There he is,” he told Anakin. “He’s headed north now.”

“What street?”

“Not a clue,” Obi-Wan admitted. “Where are you two?”

“Just passing a building with a big blue-and-gold sign talking about medicines,” Anakin said. “Across the street is a green hanging banner—”

“Right—I’ve got you,” Obi-Wan cut in as he spotted them. “Take the next street to your right, and you’ll see him about a block ahead.”

He watched Anakin and Lorana long enough to see them pick up their pace, then shifted his attention back to the thief, wishing he’d thought to bring along some macrobinoculars. Anakin had a set, but that wasn’t going to do Obi-Wan any good.

“Obi-Wan?”

Obi-Wan lifted his comlink again. “Go.”

“We’ve turned north,” Anakin reported. “I think I see him ahead.”

“Stay where you are,” Obi-Wan ordered. A somewhat chunky Brolf had stepped from one of the storefronts and was moving to intercept the thief. “I think he’s about to pass off his ill-gotten gain. Put Lorana on.”

There was a moment of silence. “Yes?” Lorana’s clear voice came.

“Move forward a little from where you are,” Obi-Wan told her. “The thief’s rendezvousing with someone—slightly overweight Brolf with a dark blue sash over a lighter blue tunic.”

“I see him,” Lorana confirmed. “He’s moving in close…

looks like they’re talking…”

“Is the boy giving him the thrusters?” Obi-Wan asked.

“The adult’s blocking my line of sight.”

“He’s in mine, too,” Lorana said tightly. “I can’t—there they go.

“Blast,” Obi-Wan muttered under his breath as the two Brolfi separated, the teen continuing north while the adult turned west. “Did he give him the thrusters?”

“I couldn’t tell,” Lorana said. “I’m sorry.”

Obi-Wan scowled as he watched the two Brolfi heading their separate ways. The adult had certainly had the time and the opportunity to take the thrusters. Problem was, he’d also had the time to merely confirm that the grab had been made, to check for followers, or to give the boy new instructions.